Water and the Raft

Why should it be that you and I Remain the raft and the river And never anything more?

Frozen ice is becoming dangerous And walking on water isn't what it Used to be. But you and I are still the Peeling wood and splintered fingers And frankly, I'd like a change.

Snow is supposed to fall vertically Yet the horizontal powers grasp it, too. Why can't you and I be that Vertical and horizontal connection as well? Perpendicular would suit us nicely.

Your skin, the tinted Sins of sunlight Peel into my eyes and mercilessly choke them. I cry for more. Reflections are becoming real, however, And I miss the cold, stone blue Of your earlier days.

When you begin to miss me, too I will be waiting And the tether, slacked, hanging just Above your grip Will come undone. Water will seep And beams will sink. I can't stay afloat When the depths hold what I want.

Wanting has become stronger than needing. My fingers lie bloody in my lap And pins of water drown them with salt. Incisions of the sea's ruthless knife Dig into my fresh water cheeks And the alabaster turns a dark Indigo. This is what I want.

I cannot stay afloat on clouds or trains Or azure puddles. The sky, despite it's blue appearance, Is not made of water.

Tell me when you begin to miss me. I will be waiting.

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